Prologue
My name is Main Character.
My parents gave me this name with the meaning that I should become the protagonist of the world.
And, as anyone could easily guess, because of this name, I was endlessly teased as I grew up.
In kindergarten, in elementary school, in middle school, and even in high school.
So, if things had gone according to plan and I had entered university, I probably would have been teased there as well.
Because of that, there was a time when I really hated my name.
But not anymore. Now, I even have a slightly different thought: perhaps the fact that my name is "Main Character" was a kind of foreshadowing all along?
[Name: Shutra] [Age: 17] [Race: Gandharva] [Job: Main Character] [Special Note: Prince, Knight of Conquest]
A status window that clearly shows my situation on the continent of Achenbach.
My name is Main Character.
I am the protagonist.
Chapter 1 – Entrance
Remake.
Taking an old movie, music, game, or novel, and creating it anew.
On the verge of entering university, Main Character opened his room door, panting heavily. In the black plastic bag in his hand was a newly released game.
The remake of Knight Saga: Knight Saga :Re.
Knight Saga was his favorite classic game. It was also the biggest hit of its developer, Taro Soft. Rumors had always circulated that a remake would never come out unless Taro Soft was on the verge of collapse, but contrary to all expectations, it had been released.
And it wasn't just a simple remake. The original only had two playable characters, but now the number had expanded to twelve. And the format had completely changed, from a standard PC RPG to a virtual reality game.
Giggling to himself, Main Character set the game into the VR device he had received as a college entrance gift. Then, suddenly growing solemn, he took a deep breath.
He had cleared Knight Saga more than ten times, so there was nothing he didn't know about its world, characters, special items, and hidden events. But this wasn't Knight Saga—it was Knight Saga :Re.
With excitement, he carefully read through the manual. Thanks to his daily visits to the official website, there wasn't much new information. Still, wasn't savoring even the tiniest detail the true joy of a fan?
Knight Saga was a story about the conflict between humans and the demon race. The human protagonist was Locke, a hero raised in the temple, and the demon protagonist was Zephyr Ragnaros, the Demon King's second son.
Regardless of which side you chose, the gameplay was essentially the same: travel around the world, raise your protagonist's level, improve stats, gather items and followers, and accomplish your ultimate goal.
Zephyr's goal was to become the Demon King and unify both the Demon Realm and the Human Realm, while Locke's goal was to defeat the Demon King and save humanity.
But with Knight Saga :Re, the number of playable characters had greatly expanded.
On the demon side, you could now choose from the other princes and princesses who were originally Zephyr's rivals. On the human side, you could play as Locke's companions or even various kings of different nations.
After reviewing the newly added playable characters, Main Character turned his gaze toward the pure white coffin-like VR device. The installation of Knight Saga :Re was already complete.
"Alright, let's just play lightly for about 8 hours today."
Muttering something that redefined the word "lightly," he lay down inside the VR device.
When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the ceiling of a tent. Thanks to the sunlight coming through a hole in the wall serving as a window, it wasn't too dark, and he could see well enough.
The boy—Main Character—sat up from the folding cot and then swung his legs over the side.
A satisfied smile spread across his lips.
"Yes, an RPG protagonist should always start by waking up in bed."
Nodding to himself a few times, he looked around. And then he couldn't help but gasp in awe.
"Whoa, these graphics are insane."
Every item inside the tent looked utterly real. The texture of the cot and the blanket felt so vivid it was unbelievable.
VR games had been commercialized for a while now, but none had ever truly replicated reality itself. There were still technological limitations.
"Did Taro Soft start torturing aliens or something?"
Muttering nonsense, he once again marveled at the detail, like a newbie player touching every object within reach.
And then it happened.
"Coming in!"
A gruff voice came from outside the tent. Main Character flinched, and then a huge man stepped inside.
"Oh."
Once again, he was struck with admiration.
Broad shoulders like a gorilla, bulging arms, unmistakably green skin, and tusks jutting from his mouth.
It was an orc—the staple race that always appeared in fantasy games.
But that wasn't why Main Character was impressed.
Like the props in the tent, this orc looked utterly real.
"This is basically… no, this IS live-action!"
If it weren't for the minimap and menu buttons in the corner of his vision, he might have believed it was real life.
"What are you staring at?"
The orc furrowed his brow and asked bluntly. Reflexively, Main Character answered.
"Oh, it's just—the graphics are insane."
"Graphics?"
The orc tilted his head, puzzled. Once again, Main Character was floored.
"Wait, I can have proper conversations like this?"
In VR games, graphics and AI development were separate. Realistic visuals were one thing, but true AI that behaved like real people was beyond modern technology. NPCs usually only responded with pre-programmed keyword-based lines.
But this orc had just reacted to a word outside that scope, asking what "graphics" even meant. It could've been clever design—but if it wasn't, then this was revolutionary.
"Did Taro Soft really start torturing aliens? Then why didn't they advertise this?"
Maybe it was just a surprise-marketing tactic.
"Eh, whatever. Doesn't matter to me."
As long as the game was fun, that was enough.
Having reached his conclusion, he looked back at the orc.
"Weirdly, I'm kind of nervous."
The orc seemed so real that Main Character felt strangely hesitant to speak. After clearing his throat several times, he finally managed to say:
"Ahem. My name is Main Character. What's yours?"
Introducing himself with that name was always awkward.
The orc frowned, muttered something under his breath—sounded like a curse—then scratched the back of his head and replied.
"Karakiyu. I told you yesterday, didn't I? And your name isn't 'Main Character.' You're Shutra, right?"
Shutra Ignus. The Demon King's ninth child. One of the twelve playable characters in this game.
"Wait a sec—I never picked a character. Is the first demon route always forced as Shutra?"
Main Character recalled Shutra from the original Knight Saga. A weak prince, with no powerful mother's family, no influence—basically, a nobody. In Romance of the Three Kingdoms terms, he was about as important as Um Bak-ho.
"Well, I'll wait outside."
The orc—Karak—clicked his tongue and left the tent. Main Character frowned at his retreating back.
"Judging from the flow, the tutorial starts once I go outside."
He didn't mind tutorials. The problem lay elsewhere.
"Should I change characters?"
Even though Knight Saga :Re was a remake, it wasn't exactly the same as the original. There was no need to play as a high-difficulty character on the first run.
"There's no way Taro Soft would lock players into Shutra for the first run. Either it's a bug, or I made a mistake."
If the fixed character were Zephyr Ragnaros, the original demon protagonist, or Locke, the human hero, that would make sense. But Shutra? That didn't add up.
"I'll just save, log out, and check online."
Even though the game was brand new, there should already be info about character selection.
And if it really was a bug, Taro Soft would have posted an urgent announcement.
Reaching toward the menu as if tapping an invisible button, Main Character opened the status window.
[Name: Shutra Ignus] [Age: 14] [Race: Gandharva] [Job: Main Character] [Special Note: Prince / Knight of Conquest] [Level: 1] Strength: 5 Intelligence: 5 Agility: 5 Dexterity: 5 Stamina: 5 Endurance: 5 Spirit: 5 Mana: 5 Charm: 5
"As expected of the Um Bak-ho of Knight Saga—these stats are garbage."
The average villager NPC had stats of 10. Even considering his young age, Shutra's numbers were pathetic.
How could a prince of the demon race have less mana than a random villager?
"And wait—his job is… 'Main Character'? Is this really a bug?"
He let out a hollow laugh, then scanned the menu again.
"Huh?"
There was no save button. Not even a load button.
Swallowing nervously, he carefully checked the menu one more time.
But it was no use.
"What the hell, there isn't even a game exit button."
Startled, Main Character (Ingong) quickly tried to summon the VR device's own system menu, but it was no use. The standard emergency shutdown function was nowhere to be found.
"Calm down, calm down. You're the protagonist."
He took a slow, deep breath and tried to steady himself, silently counting sheep in his mind.
"There are two possibilities."
First: he was trapped in virtual reality.
Taro Soft must have released the game with a catastrophic bug, and now he was stuck inside. From a realistic perspective, that explanation made the most sense—and honestly, it wasn't the worst-case scenario. If he just endured for a day or two, rescue was likely.
But his mind kept circling back to the second possibility.
Second: this wasn't a game at all—it was reality. Just like in those novels or comics, he had been transported into the game world, or at least into a world that resembled it.
It was absurd. Ridiculous enough that people would tell him to stop playing games and get his head straight.
And yet, he had his reasons.
"It feels too real."
Everything around him looked like reality.
The orc Karak had behaved like a living, breathing person.
And then there was himself—sweating cold sweat since earlier.
No matter how advanced VR was, this level was impossible. Breathing heavily, swallowing saliva, sweating nervously… all while in-game?
Just moments ago, he had been marveling at the graphics and AI, but now he couldn't shake the doubts. The inconsistencies stood out one by one.
And then there was the decisive factor.
"This isn't Korean."
He had spoken with the orc without thinking, but now that he reflected, he hadn't been speaking Korean at all. He could understand everything clearly, but it was in some strange language he had never heard before.
Groaning, he buried his face in both hands, sighing deeply. Then suddenly, he jumped up, yanked down his pants. Not because of some sudden exhibitionist urge—no, he stripped down to his underwear and checked below the waist.
He grit his teeth.
"No censorship."
Knight Saga :Re was rated 17+, which meant explicit nudity was prohibited under local law.
But here, nothing was censored.
"Oh, God, please…"
He slumped onto the cot, pulling his underwear and pants back on, dazed.
"Damn it. If I was going to get dragged into a game world, why couldn't it be one of the adult ones? A nukige, or… a nukige, or… ugh, anything but this!"
Once again, he tried to calm himself by counting sheep, forcing himself to think positively.
"Well… at least I'm not some ugly monster character like an orc or ogre. I'm still a prince. Even if I'm called the Um Bak-ho of Knight Saga, I'm still royalty. Born with a golden spoon!"
There were more silver linings, too.
According to the official site's character descriptions, Shutra was a fragile-looking but extremely handsome boy. There wasn't a mirror here, but seeing how his own arms had become pale and slender like a girl's, he was certain his face had changed to match Shutra's.
"Even if worst comes to worst and I really have to live here, I'm a handsome prince. Not bad at all. Actually, that's like winning the lottery—I've even rejuvenated from nineteen to fourteen!"
The power of optimism was limitless. Even if it was forced, the endorphins eased his troubled mind.
But once his excitement cooled, rational thoughts began creeping back in.
"Wait, what happened to Shutra in Knight Saga again?"
In the demon storyline, the protagonist Zephyr defeated all his siblings to become Demon King.
Which meant, in other words—
"The Day of Massacre. The forced event!"
Just as the human hero Locke was a "true hero," Zephyr was the "true Demon King"—a cold-blooded monster with neither pity nor mercy. On the Day of Massacre, he slaughtered every one of his siblings.
"That psycho killed not only his rivals, but even the siblings who supported him."
If memory served, Shutra had been in hiding then. But Zephyr scoured the entire Demon Realm until he found him, and butchered him.
"How old is Zephyr right now? How long until the Day of Massacre?"
He had no answers. His current information was far too limited—he didn't even know exactly where he was.
"Not coming out?"
Karak's voice sounded from outside. Snapping out of his thoughts, Ingong slapped his cheeks lightly, stood up, and walked toward the tent entrance.
Whether this was truly the game world or simply a similar reality didn't matter for now.
What he needed was information.
Resolving himself, he stepped outside.
"Here, a bit late, but here's breakfast."
Waiting outside was Karak, standing beside a folding table topped with food.
Ingong followed him closer, glancing around. About fifteen or sixteen tents stood neatly lined up across a clearing the size of an elementary school playground.
"So, a military encampment in the mountains?"
The sky above was bright blue, the surroundings lush and green.
Sitting at the table, he examined the food: a bowl of stew with bits of meat and vegetables, and a piece of bread.
"Wait… I am supposed to be a prince, right?"
He doubted for a moment, but quickly dismissed it. It would've been far stranger if he'd been served a royal feast in such a camp.
He tried the stew. The taste was mediocre—but that didn't matter. What mattered was the confirmation.
"It's real."
The flavors, the smell—just like his sense of touch, sight, and hearing, they screamed reality.
"Phew."
He sighed—he'd lost count of how many times already today. Gathering himself, he turned to Karak, who was staring off into the distance.
"Karak, what year is it now?"
The odd question made the orc furrow his brow. He leaned in, scrutinizing Ingong.
"Did you have a fever last night?"
Asked if he was ill, Ingong quickly nodded.
"Yes, when I woke up my head hurt terribly. My memory feels… muddled."
Even to himself, the excuse sounded absurd—but he had no choice. For now, he needed to keep asking questions.
"Though honestly, why is this orc being so casual with a prince?"
Even if Shutra was the weakest of princes, he was still royalty. Sure, he was weak, frail, powerless, with no allies, no friends, no prospects, and zero chance of inheriting the throne—but still.
"Fair enough. I'd ignore him too."
Besides, orcs in Knight Saga respected only strength. Why would they revere a prince weaker than a random villager?
At least Karak didn't seem to be openly mocking him—just naturally gruff.
Indeed, the orc wasn't disrespecting Shutra. Instead, frowning slightly in recollection, he explained:
"It's the year 512. We're at the edge of the Zishuka Mountain Range. You came here for field training. We arrived yesterday."
"Field training? Wait—are we at war?"
At that, Karak's expression shifted. For the first time, he looked at Ingong with genuine concern.
"That fever… it's not something serious, is it?"
"Just answer."
Even to Ingong, he must've looked like a total amnesiac patient.
Thankfully, Karak only tilted his head a few times before continuing.
"The Red Thunder Clan orcs here in the region raised their army. Thought they could get away with it since this is the frontier. Anyway, the central forces dispatched troops. You came along with another prince and a princess. I was assigned to guard you."
"And the other prince and princess?"
"Each of them is commanding their own units. Over there's Prince Chris, and beyond that way is Princess Caitlin."
Chris and Caitlin.
The Demon King's seventh and eighth children—both born of his fourth queen, Elaine Moonlight, queen of the lycanthropes.
"Both of them were major headaches when playing as Zephyr."
Their faction wasn't the biggest, but each lycanthrope warrior was worth a hundred men. Chris and Caitlin, in particular, were terrifying prodigies even among them.
"But they should still be young here."
He didn't know their exact ages, but he recalled that Caitlin was younger than Zephyr, and Chris was only a couple of years older than her.
"Well, now that you're done eating, let's resume training," Karak said, glancing at the empty stew bowl.
Still chewing his bread, Ingong stiffened.
"Training?"
In a game, a tutorial was natural. But this didn't feel like a game anymore.
"Wait, don't tell me he wants me to spar with him? His arm is thicker than my waist—one hit and I'm done!"
His face paled. Karak clicked his tongue.
"Relax. What would I make a prince do? Just running, like yesterday. You know as well as I do—you've got no stamina at all. But don't push it until you're sick again."
The orc gave him a worried once-over before pointing out a simple running course circling the tents.
Relieved, Ingong agreed and stood up. He needed time to think anyway.
After stretching lightly, he began jogging.
"So Chris and Caitlin exist here, too. This must really be the same world as Knight Saga."
If so, the real question was: would all the same events unfold?
The original game began in the year 513. It was now 512—five years until the Day of Massacre in 517.
"If I keep living as Shutra… what should I do?"
Option one: run away and hide.
Option two: work hard and become Zephyr's ally.
Option three: work hard and oppose Zephyr.
The first two options were immediately dismissed. Zephyr killed all his siblings—those in hiding, and even those who supported him.
Which left only one path.
"Huff… huff… god, this stamina is pathetic."
After only a few laps, he was already gasping, too winded to even think. How could he possibly oppose Zephyr in this pitiful body?
And then it happened.
[Level up.]
With a cheerful chime, a clear female voice rang out as a shower of white light enveloped him.
"Wha—!?"
Blinking dumbly, he realized his lungs no longer burned. His trembling legs regained strength.
"Prince? Did you just use magic?" Karak asked, wide-eyed.
"Wait, wait—hold on."
Holding up a hand, Ingong checked himself.
"First, confirm."
It was absurd that just running laps had triggered a level-up—but that wasn't the point.
He had leveled up. Which meant leveling was possible. What changed?
He hurriedly opened his status window.
[Name: Shutra Ignus] [Age: 14] [Race: Gandharva] [Job: Main Character] [Special Note: Prince / Knight of Conquest] [Level: 2] Strength: 7 Intelligence: 7 Agility: 7 Dexterity: 7 Stamina: 7 Endurance: 7 Spirit: 7 Mana: 7 Charm: 7 Bonus Points: 2
"What?! All stats increased by 2?"
They were still weaker than the average villager, but that wasn't what mattered.
"If every level-up raises all stats… this is completely broken!"
Even the "Hero," considered the most overpowered class in the game, didn't have growth like this.
"Skills—check the skill window."
With trembling fingers, he opened it.
[Conquest Lv -] [Protagonist's Correction Lv 1]
Both were unfamiliar. And "Conquest" was still locked.
"Protagonist's Correction… could it really mean what I think it does? Is it that?"
It looked like a passive, though sadly there was no skill description.
"And Conquest—wait. Right, the special notes listed me as a Prince and… a Knight of Conquest."
He didn't know what that meant yet, but the skill was clearly tied to it.
"Level-ups work. Skills are available. The minimap is functional. And…"
Checking again, he realized he had an inventory menu as well.
He grabbed a rock from the ground.
"Store."
As soon as he willed it, the stone vanished from his palm, reappearing in the inventory list.
[Stone]
"It works! It works!"
He clenched his fist, nearly shouting.
"Prince?" Karak called, but he barely heard him.
It wasn't just the inventory.
Shutra might be the weakest prince—but if he could keep leveling like this? With the minimap and inventory, he could accomplish miracles.
And most importantly of all—
"I know things."
Even if the events didn't unfold exactly the same as Knight Saga, one thing wouldn't change: his knowledge.
He knew where people were. He knew where hidden items were. He knew the secrets of his rivals. He even knew the human realm.
"I can do this. I can do this!"
I can oppose Zephyr. No—maybe I can even become the Demon King myself!
"Yeah, going back is the best option. But if I can't… then since I'm here, shouldn't I aim for the top?!"
He was getting carried away with excitement, but it wasn't entirely wrong.
He didn't know how he'd ended up in this world, so of course he had no idea how to return. Survival meant struggling to adapt—and aiming high wasn't the worst way to do it.
"Uh… Prince? You all right?"
Karak asked, looking uneasy. Ingong finally gathered his wits and nodded. The orc continued:
"You've got that look, you know. That burning ambition in your eyes. Suddenly."
He must've been too obvious in his excitement.
Thanks to Karak, Ingong managed to calm himself, taking a long breath.
"Not yet. It's too early to get excited. I need more information first."
He turned to Karak, choosing a question that could answer many doubts at once.
"Karak, what's your level?"
Ingong had a level.
But did the people of this world have levels too?
If so, did they gain them the same way he did—by leveling up and raising stats?
Nervously, he waited for Karak's answer. The orc blinked his big eyes, scratched his chin, and said:
"Uh… last time I checked, I was 21. Or maybe 22? Around there."
In short:
This world's people did have levels.
But unlike Ingong, they couldn't just summon a status window. They couldn't see detailed stats, nor did leveling up give them bonus points to assign.
They could only gauge their strength through level-measuring magic.
Which meant "getting stronger by leveling up" wasn't even a concept here. To them, leveling was just a byproduct of training and fighting hard.
"So I really am in an overwhelmingly advantageous position."
Every time Ingong leveled, his stamina and mana recovered, all his stats rose, and he even got bonus points to assign. His growth potential was insane.
"And since Karak doesn't know about minimaps or inventories… these must be my unique abilities."
Maybe someone else from Earth had been pulled here too—but for now, from what he saw, it was safe to assume his powers were unique.
A smile tugged at his lips.
He might be weaker than a villager right now, but that was only temporary. Two more levels and all his stats would reach 11, surpassing the average villager's 10.
"And with bonus points, I'll be even stronger."
It stung that his benchmark was "villager A," but what could he do? His starting point was rock bottom.
"Anyway."
The next issue was skills.
Luckily—or unluckily—skills existed here, similar to magic. But unlike him, the people of this world had to painstakingly train and polish techniques until they learned them.
"But not me."
Level 2 hadn't just given him stat points—it had given him a skill point too. And investing it would directly raise skill levels.
"Heheheh."
A laugh slipped out before he could stop it. Karak gave him a look like he was watching a lunatic, but Ingong couldn't suppress his joy.
"Yeah, if I've been thrown into another world out of nowhere, I deserve this kind of cheat buff!"
Without it, being stuck as Shutra would've been nothing but a death sentence.
As he kept grinning, Karak frowned harder.
"Prince, are you really sure you're okay? You don't look…"
"I'm fine, I'm fine. Actually, I feel great. Want me to keep running?"
He was curious how many levels he could grind just by running. But Karak gave him a once-over, then shook his head.
"Hm… strange as it sounds, you look a lot livelier now. Might as well try something besides running."
With that, the orc turned and led him to the open training ground.
"I heard you use a sword, Prince. Can you show me?"
He handed over a wooden sword. It had looked like a toothpick in Karak's hand, but once Ingong held it, it felt heavy and long.
"You want me to… show swordsmanship?"
"Just swing a few times. I need to gauge your level."
It was a blunt request, but Karak's face showed no malice. He probably didn't even think it rude—same as when he'd forced Ingong to run.
"I'm actually nervous."
Ingong had never learned kendo or fencing. The closest he'd come was horsing around with brooms in school.
Awkwardly, he gripped the sword, took a breath, and swung it like a baseball bat.
[Basic Swordsmanship Lv.1 acquired.]
"Huh?"
Blinking, he froze, then activated his skill window. Without hesitation, he dumped a point into it.
[Basic Swordsmanship Lv.2]
No physical change—but he knew.
The way he held the sword had shifted. His stance, the trajectory of his swing—all sharper, more precise.
"Hmm?"
Karak blinked again. Ingong grinned.
"What?"
"Your movements just improved. A lot."
The orc tilted his head, baffled.
Ingong only smiled wider.
"Good. I really can do this."
He could get stronger—faster than anyone else.
And that was crucial. Without strength of his own, he couldn't do anything.
Imagine someone from modern Earth dropped into the Romance of the Three Kingdoms world. If he became one of the lords, what would he do first?
Recruit talent, of course. Liu Bei, Cao Cao—anyone would rush to secure Zhuge Liang from his mountain retreat.
If he had Zhuge Liang, Pang Tong, Zhou Yu, Sima Yi under his banner? If Guan Yu and Zhang Liao formed a duo? If Zhang Fei and Xu Chu led the charge? They'd be unstoppable.
But there was a problem.
Just knowing where talented people were wasn't enough.
Would Zhuge Liang have left his thatched hut for someone like Um Bak-ho?
Would Zhou Yu have sworn brotherhood with Um Bak-ho instead of Sun Ce?
Not a chance. Zhuge Liang followed Liu Bei because he was Liu Bei. Zhou Yu bonded with Sun Ce because he was Sun Ce.
If Shutra, the Um Bak-ho of Knight Saga, showed up… he'd be turned away ten times out of ten.
"That's why I need to get stronger. Build my position."
As a powerless youngest prince, he had nothing. To use the information in his head, he needed at least a foundation of strength and authority.
[Level up.]
Even as he pondered, repeated swings brought another level-up. At low levels, it seemed growth came fast.
Checking his almost-villager-level stats with satisfaction, Ingong raised his sword again. His stamina was fully restored—he could keep grinding for a while.
"If I keep this up today and tomorrow, hitting level 5 should be easy."
Karak had said he was here for "field training." That meant before real battle began, he had to raise his level as much as possible.
"Speaking of which…"
When would that first real battle be? Chris and Caitlin were commanding units already. Would there be some kind of joint operation?
"Karak, I've got a question."
"What is it?"
"Is there any scheduled battle soon? Like… meetings with Chris or Caitlin?"
Then he realized—meetings might be a problem.
After all, it wasn't Shutra here. It was him, Ingong.
If those two realized something was different… what would happen?
"Maybe nothing?"
Would they even notice? His body and face were still Shutra's.
But better not to risk it. Karak had brushed off his "fever" excuse easily enough, but Chris and Caitlin wouldn't be so gullible. He'd need preparation.
Karak answered.
"Of course there's a meeting. You don't remember?"
"I don't. When?"
Please don't let it be daily.
Karak, expression flat as always, said:
"Today."
"…Why didn't you say so earlier?!"
"You didn't ask. And I thought you remembered."
He hadn't asked. True. And Karak's reaction made sense—normally, Shutra would've remembered.
Sighing, Ingong suppressed the urge to scold him and kept it logical.
"When today?"
It was still morning. If it was late afternoon or evening, there was time.
Karak scratched his chin.
"Uh… before lunch. Around 11. So not long."
Ingong immediately checked the clock menu next to his minimap. 9:52.
"Only one hour left?!"
Damn it! Why did he always find out at the last minute?!
"Where?"
Karak pointed beyond the mountain.
"At Princess Caitlin's camp. It'll take time to get there, so we should prepare now."
So much for preparation.
Taking a deep breath, Ingong forced himself to think rationally. Complaints and curses wouldn't help.
Information. He needed information.
"Karak, since my fever scrambled my memory, can you tell me about Chris and Caitlin? Like… what I usually called them."
Titles.
If they were just ordinary siblings, he could say "hey" to Caitlin and "bro" to Chris. But they were royals. Surely there were formal ways to address them.
"No way I just called them bro and sis."
Eyes pleading, he looked at Karak. The orc, however, was blunt.
"Don't know."
"You must've seen them in meetings!"
"Meeting's today. First one. Like I said, you only arrived yesterday."
Flawless logic. Beaten by an orc. Ingong slumped his shoulders.
"…Fine. Let's just get ready."
In truth, "getting ready" wasn't much. Just putting on some more clothes.
"If it comes down to it, I'll just play the fever card."
It would look suspicious, but he had no choice.
"At least I look exactly like Shutra. That should cover me."
Karak had accepted his excuse easily enough. Maybe Chris and Caitlin would too—or at least brush it off.
After all, Shutra, Chris, and Caitlin weren't close. Concern would probably be minimal.
"Or none at all."
Nodding to himself, he followed Karak. Ahead was his massive back, and to either side marched other orcs.
"Think. Deduce."
In Knight Saga, the demon storyline had always been through Zephyr's eyes. Shutra, Chris, and Caitlin's relationships were never really explored.
But some inference was possible.
Zephyr barely interacted with any of them. Shutra lived like a ghost in a side palace. Chris and Caitlin spent most of their childhood not in the Demon King's castle, but in lycanthrope lands.
Their mother, Elaine Moonlight, queen of the lycanthropes, had no ambition for the throne. She raised Chris and Caitlin as lycanthrope royalty, not demon royalty.
Which meant their ties to Shutra were virtually nonexistent.
Maybe they'd met before, but they likely had never even spoken much.
"Good. Then I can just bluff it. They won't care."
He had collapsed with a fever, and now his memory was foggy—partial amnesia. That was his story.
Resolved, he clenched his jaw and trudged on.
"Huff, huff… damn, even after leveling, my stamina sucks."
Now at level 3, all his stats were 9—almost a villager's 10. But mountain trails, especially uphill, were still brutal.
"Almost there. Just a bit more," Karak said with a grin. For all his roughness, he was looking out for him.
"Yeah."
Forcing a smile back, Ingong pushed on. Eventually, the slope leveled out, and a wide clearing came into view.
"We're here."
He barely heard Karak. His eyes were too busy darting around.
This wasn't just a clearing—it was a proper military camp. Unlike his own ragtag settlement, this place was orderly, fortified with sturdy wooden palisades.
Dozens of tents stood in neat rows.
And the soldiers were different too. Dozens of lycanthrope warriors, clearly Caitlin's troops, manned the camp. Dressed in uniform black leather armor, each radiated ferocity. They were the epitome of elite soldiers.
Even the orcs here looked different—stronger, more reliable—though they were likely the same as his own.
Seeing Ingong's tense face, Karak chuckled.
"Don't worry. They're all on our side. Feels reassuring, right?"
"…Yeah. Our side."
He tried to sound light, but his voice came out low.
Karak clapped him on the shoulder.
"Come on. They're already coming to greet us."
From the central tent, a lycanthrope warrior strode toward them.
Chris and Caitlin.
The 7th Prince and the 8th Princess.
Shutra's half-siblings.
The two blood-crazed beasts who once defied Zephyr. The lycanthrope monsters.
Ingong swallowed hard. Gritting his teeth, he followed Karak forward.
Inside the tent, he froze in shock.
Because the inside looked nothing like the outside.
Inside the tent was nothing short of a royal palace.
The floor was layered with carpets so thick and soft it felt like clouds, and the walls, draped in silks, gleamed with elegance. Somehow, despite being only a tent, the interior was dazzlingly bright—gentle light streamed down from the ceiling like stained glass in a cathedral.
At the center stood a massive round table, clearly a luxury even to Ingong's untrained eye. Spread across its surface was a grand battlefield map, dotted with finely crafted miniature figures.
"Please, have a seat."
A lycanthrope youth with a warm smile gestured to him. There were only three chairs—meant for Ingong, Chris, and Caitlin.
As he glanced at the empty seats, the youth reassured him with another soft smile.
"Prince Chris and Princess Caitlin will arrive shortly. Please wait a moment."
There was nothing to do but obey. Ingong nodded and checked the clock by his minimap. He'd hurried here, but there were still ten minutes before the meeting.
"Impressive… as expected of Chris and Caitlin."
Though all were children of the Demon King, the gap between them and Shutra was like heaven and earth.
Ingong's memories of them weren't pleasant. Whenever he played as Zephyr, Chris and Caitlin were nightmarish opponents. No matter how many times he loaded and reloaded, his best generals would always die facing them.
Even before the succession wars intensified, they had been difficult to deal with. Chris bared open hostility at every encounter, while Caitlin met him only with a cold, silent stare.
"They really were designed as mid-bosses."
Now, though, he had to face them—and ideally, win their favor. If they were Zephyr's greatest obstacles, then they could just as easily become his greatest allies.
"Though honestly, they look like the kind who'd slaughter all their siblings right after Zephyr is gone."
He sighed. For the first time, he sympathized with Um Bak-ho having to fend off Sun Ce all alone.
"Prince."
Karak's low voice pulled him from his thoughts. He straightened immediately as voices rang from outside.
Chris and Caitlin had arrived.
Ingong knew nearly every character in Knight Saga. He already had an image of Chris and Caitlin's appearances.
But even so, he still lost his breath for a moment.
"She's… stunning."
Leading the way was Caitlin, just a year older than Shutra—only fifteen. Her long, dark-blue hair framed a pale, delicate face, and her golden eyes glimmered like moonlight in a midnight sky.
She wore tight black leather armor, a blue cloak draped over her shoulders, and carried herself with a cold, expressionless grace.
Their eyes met for only a few seconds. Ingong thought he should say something, but before he could, a voice cut through.
"Hurry up. Don't block the way."
With a rough shove, Caitlin was pushed aside—Chris had arrived.
Caitlin only cast him a brief glare before sitting down. Chris, grinning like a mischievous lion, gave Ingong a cheeky nod.
Like his sister, Chris was striking. His golden hair was wild like a lion's mane, and his blue eyes brimmed with both mischief and ferocity.
But unlike his pretty face, his body was massive. He could easily pass for thirty instead of seventeen. Draped in a tiger pelt like a cloak, he looked more bandit lord than prince.
Once he sat, several intimidating figures entered behind them—clearly their knights.
"Tch. I knew it, but the difference is huge."
Shutra had no proper knights. Karak might look imposing at his back, but he was just a local warrior, not a sworn retainer.
"When I played Zephyr, I had so many followers…"
Nayatra the succubus knight, Vandal the ogre warrior, Sectum the necromancer…
Ingong clenched his jaw. They were all enemies now.
"No. I'll steal them. I raised them myself—no way I'll let Zephyr have them!"
Even if "raising" them was just in the game, he dismissed the detail.
"Where were Nayatra and the others around this time…?"
"Prince."
Karak's warning snapped him back. Straightening again, he forced composure.
"It's been a while," Caitlin spoke first. Her tone was stiff, but her voice was as beautiful as her face.
Chris snorted with laughter.
"A while? This is basically the first time we've ever sat down together. We even came here separately."
"First time? Separately?"
"Oh, nice!"
As expected, their ties with Shutra were almost nonexistent—maybe even less than he'd thought. He might not even need the fever excuse.
"Relax. We're siblings, aren't we? This isn't the cold halls of the Demon King's castle. Call me brother."
Chris winked. Coming from anyone else, it would've been creepy—but with his face, it worked.
"Chris… you're actually a good guy."
Problem of titles: solved in one stroke.
"Got it, brother."
Ingong's response made Chris grin wide. He then jerked his chin at Caitlin.
If Chris was "brother," then Caitlin would be—
"Uh… sister?"
Ingong tried, almost shyly. Caitlin lowered her gaze, lips pressing together, and her mouth twitched slightly.
"…Wait. Was that a good reaction? Her ears are… red?"
Chris burst out laughing again.
"Sister? She's barely a few months older than you!"
Caitlin shot him a glare while Ingong floundered.
"These two are really the same Chris and Caitlin I know? The blood-crazed beasts?"
"We'll start with the operation."
Caitlin's voice cut him short. Rising to her feet, she pointed her slender finger at the map.
"These are the known positions of the Red Thunder tribe. I'll attack here. Chris will strike here."
Blue figures marked allies. Red figures marked enemies.
As she explained, a clear voice rang in Ingong's mind.
[Map Reading Lv.1 acquired.]
Just like swordsmanship—his vision sharpened, details sprang to life on the map.
"Wait… can I just learn any skill like this?"
Swing a sword, gain Swordsmanship. Look at a map, gain Map Reading.
Level 1 now, but with skill points, it could grow.
"What if I can learn magic too? Spirit arts, divine magic… if I could master everything—"
The ultimate multi-class. Stronger than any "hero."
He had to be careful, of course—scattering points randomly could create a weak jack-of-all-trades. But Ingong was a master of Knight Saga. He knew every synergy combination by heart.
"Shutra, you'll handle reconnaissance here."
Caitlin's call yanked him back. He looked where she pointed: an area with no red markers.
"Reconnaissance?"
"Yes. This was their territory before the uprising. Based on their movements, it's likely empty now. Still, we can't be careless."
She hesitated, lips moving soundlessly, then met his eyes again.
"I'm sorry to assign this so unilaterally. Do you have any objections?"
"What? Did she just apologize? Ask my opinion?"
"Don't make it so complicated. Hey, Shutra."
Chris leaned back with a sigh.
"Sorry, but your forces are weaker than ours. If you strike too recklessly, it's dangerous."
That was true. Shutra himself was weak, and his only troops were the orcs assigned to him.
"But if you don't do anything, you'll return with no results. Just sitting in camp won't even make a report worth writing. You know that, right?"
Also true.
"…Wait. Don't tell me—"
"We could lend you soldiers, but then all the credit would go to us. That wouldn't help you."
Exactly.
Every mission was graded. Achievements determined how each royal child was treated. With no household troops of his own, Shutra had to make do with his meager orc unit.
Too weak for the frontlines. Too proud to borrow from Chris and Caitlin.
This reconnaissance mission was the perfect compromise.
"Caitlin thought it through," Chris said with a proud smile. His sister only pressed her lips together again.
Ingong glanced between them.
"…Wait. Are these two actually… nice?"
The Chris and Caitlin he knew were monsters—blood-soaked beasts.
But that was only from Zephyr's perspective, wasn't it?
After all, Zephyr had only met them as enemies on the battlefield.
"So, Shutra, what will you do? We'll give you bigger tasks later, but for now, this is a good start. The war won't end with one battle."
Chris grinned. Ingong turned back to Caitlin. Looking past his prejudice, he saw only a shy fifteen-year-old girl. Cute, even.
"Alright. I'll do as sister says. Thanks for considering me."
Though she tried to keep her face proud and cold, her eyes were smiling. Her lips even twitched at the corners.
"Such an untruthful little sister," Chris teased.
Caitlin glared at him, but he only laughed harder, then reached out to the map.
"That's the outline. Let's go over the details."
Back and forth, Chris and Caitlin explained the operation for tomorrow's battle. Ingong listened with mixed feelings.
If opposing Zephyr, they'd be invaluable allies. But not without risk.
Because one year before the Massacre Day event, both Chris and Caitlin would die.
The children of the Demon King, normally at each other's throats, had united for once—to eliminate them.
And the reason was simple.
Princess Caitlin Moonlight… was not the Demon King's child.
After the strategy meeting, the three shared a meal—luxurious beyond comparison to Shutra's meager breakfast. Apparently, they had even brought personal chefs to the battlefield.
Returning to his camp with Karak, Ingong's mind was heavy.
"In the game, Zephyr uncovered it, didn't he? Caitlin's secret."
She was the illegitimate child of the fourth queen, Elaine Moonlight, and one of the Demon King's Five Generals, Galahad.
Zephyr, ever the orthodox Demon King, would never let it pass. He rallied his siblings, led a coalition, and struck not only at Caitlin, but Chris and Queen Elaine too.
The result was carnage on both sides.
Chris, Caitlin, and Elaine—all dead.
The lycanthropes—wiped out.
The other siblings, weakened.
Zephyr—barely bloodied.
"That battle shifted the entire balance of power."
Which meant, for Ingong, the Caitlin purge event was best avoided.
"Or… I could exploit it."
The thought chilled him. He'd only just met them, spoken briefly, shared a meal. But Caitlin's face lingered in his mind—bright, shy, a little too cute.
"Forget it. That's years away. For now, I need to deal with what's in front of me."
Whether to prevent or exploit it, he needed strength first.
"Prepare the unit for tomorrow's reconnaissance. We'll leave after breakfast."
"Got it." Karak beamed, still glowing from the fine meal they'd shared at Caitlin's camp.
"Heh. I even got a new skill from that—Gourmet Lv.1. Not much use in battle, though…"
Unless higher levels turned him into some sort of food connoisseur—which sounded more annoying than helpful.
Shaking the thought away, Ingong told Karak, "I'll rest inside. At dinner, introduce me to the soldiers."
"Understood."
Once alone in his tent, Ingong let out a long breath.
Was this really the game world? Or just a world exactly like it?
Either way, why him? Why did he have these game-like powers?
A job titled "Protagonist." A trait called "Knight of Conquest."
Questions piled upon questions, but once again Ingong's answer was simple.
"When in doubt—swing the sword."
What mattered most right now was improving Shutra's standing. Only by becoming someone stronger, someone more capable, could he recruit followers, conduct investigations, and accomplish anything.
He drew his wooden sword.
By the next morning, Ingong had reached Level 5.
"Feeling normal today?"
As they prepared to leave camp after breakfast, Karak asked with a half-grin. Despite his smile, worry still glimmered faintly in his eyes.
"Yeah, I'm fine, you oaf."
That brutish face and lumbering body had started to feel almost familiar. Ingong's retort only made Karak shrug.
"Hm. It's like you've become a completely different man overnight. In a good way, of course."
Ingong could picture all too well how Shutra must have looked to him just two days ago. Instead of answering, he marched out with the soldiers.
Including Karak, there were thirty-one in total—all orcs.
Since they were Karak's men to begin with, Ingong shoved the business of commanding them off onto him.
"Not like I'll keep them around forever anyway."
He was more interested in raising his own level.
Truth be told, he hadn't slept last night. Not only because of his bizarre situation, but because grinding levels was simply too fun. Every swing of the wooden sword brought visible growth, and at low levels, the progress was rapid.
It was addicting. If studying in real life came with numbers popping up to measure progress, every high schooler in the country would see their grades soar.
"Ugh, I want to swing more. I want to level up more."
Thanks to a level-up that morning, he felt refreshed. Shutra's pitiful stamina had been reset with each level, letting him train all night without collapsing.
"Heh, my name is Protagonist. Stronger than Village Man A by a whole 1.3 times."
His average stats now sat at 13. At last, stronger than the archetypal Villager A.
He had deliberately held back his bonus points and skill points. Leveling would only get harder from here, and he didn't want to waste them prematurely.
"I'll invest them later, all at once."
Skills were the same. With so many options, he needed to choose carefully.
"But how do I even learn magic? Do I need to find a teacher?"
His thoughts drifted as they marched, until before long they reached the reconnaissance zone.
This was territory once occupied by the Red Thunder tribe. They had abandoned it early in their uprising for strategic reasons—but it was still too important to leave unchecked.
"Right. Can't just file a report saying I looked around at nothing."
Caitlin had claimed the area would be relatively safe, but Ingong kept his eyes sharp. He studied the map Karak had given him while zooming his minimap to maximize accuracy.
Twenty minutes passed when—
"Hm?"
He stopped abruptly. Karak instantly raised a hand to halt the troops and turned to him.
"What is it? Something wrong? Legs hurting?"
So weak did Shutra appear that even now Karak assumed the worst. Ingong waved him off and tapped the map.
"Is this map accurate?"
"What's wrong with it?"
"Not wrong, exactly, but…"
There was a difference.
The map showed a straight route ahead. But on his minimap, there was a faint side path branching off.
Why?
"Why else? A hidden path!"
If it wasn't on the map, the cartographers didn't know of it. But if it was on his minimap, then it had to exist.
Classic hidden path.
"In a game, this would be a guaranteed event."
Hidden paths always led somewhere—an event, a treasure, something. And since his mission was reconnaissance, any discovery was worthwhile.
"Could be enemies… but hey, I've got Karak."
With a fighter easily ten times stronger than Villager A and thirty orc warriors at their backs, odds were in their favor.
"Karak. I'll take the lead now."
His grin made Karak squint suspiciously before chuckling.
"There's that burning ambition in your eyes again."
Ignoring him, Ingong led the column. Thanks to Karak, the orcs obeyed without protest.
And sure enough, the path was hidden well. Pushing through thick brush, they found rubble piled high, half-concealed by trees. And within, a narrow passage.
At its end stood an ancient stone gate, mossy and carved with faint letters.
"By the spirits, how'd you find this? You a wizard, Prince?" Karak gawked.
Ingong smirked. "Just luck."
Not yet a wizard. But soon.
They cleared debris until the massive gate loomed free. It was tall enough for even Karak to pass, but time had sealed it shut. To enter, they'd have to break it.
"What now, Prince? Smash our way in?"
Ingong studied it.
"The protagonist always gains fortune where others find ruin."
Others die from a fall off a cliff; the protagonist finds a hidden manual or rare elixir.
Glancing at the glowing skill "Protagonist Buff Lv.1," he nodded.
"Break it."
Karak hefted his hammer.
Though thick and sturdy, it was only stone meant to open and close. Under Karak's mighty swings, it soon crumbled.
Darkness gaped within, stretching deep.
"Looks like a dwarven tunnel," Karak muttered.
Ingong's face lit up. "Dwarves? But aren't there no dwarves in the Demon Realm?"
Dwarves, like orcs, followed the common fantasy archetype: short, broad-shouldered, bearded, hardy, and skilled. In the human campaigns, they were plentiful—Rok had even had a dwarven companion.
But as Zephyr, Ingong had never encountered them. The Demon Realm officially had none.
Karak blinked at him, startled. "Strange. Can't even remember your name, but you know dwarves?"
Ingong grimaced. Karak laughed awkwardly and moved on.
"They don't live here now. But ages ago, yes. This mountain range is close to human lands."
"A migration?"
"That's what I heard. Hundreds of years ago."
It made sense. Ingong nodded, and Karak added: "Anyway, this looks like their work. The carvings on the gate, the sheer scale—you think orcs could build this?"
True. Tunneling an entire mountain took more than muscle—it needed craft.
"Alright. Let's go in."
From the state of the gate, even the Red Thunder tribe didn't know this place existed. No chance of enemy orcs inside.
"And dwarven ruins mean dwarven weapons."
Dwarven gear was always pricey, always powerful. Even the worst he'd seen in-game were Uncommon.
"Gear trumps weak stats any day."
Armed with dwarven weapons, even Shutra could hold his own. And if rarer loot showed up? Even better.
Dreams swelling, Ingong entered.
Time passed.
"…Damn it. Figures."
The minimap had indeed revealed a hidden chamber. And sure enough—it was an armory.
But.
[Level too low.][Strength insufficient.][Mana insufficient.]
Every weapon he touched, the message mocked him.
Too heavy for Shutra's arms. Too demanding for Shutra's mana.
He could swing them clumsily, but without mastery, they were liabilities.
Ingong sighed and gave up. Of course it was like this.
Um Bak-ho couldn't just hop on Red Hare. Excalibur hadn't budged for anyone but Arthur.
To wield great weapons, one must first become great.
"Still… I'll take them."
He shoved them into his inventory one by one. As when he'd stored a stone, all it took was a touch and intent.
Weapons vanished in his hand. Karak's eyes bulged.
"Prince…?!"
Ingong smirked. He knew why Karak gaped.
To him, the weapons vanished into thin air. And Ingong didn't even flinch, just kept repeating the miracle.
"Looting. Pick one for yourself. We'll distribute the rest by merit later."
Karak fought in the front lines—he needed good gear. The orc warriors too, but he couldn't arm them all.
"And who would I even report this to? I'm a prince."
Even Chris and Caitlin wouldn't mind—Shutra was their equal in rank.
Karak gleefully chose a massive axe, though he kept casting awed looks at the vanishing weapons.
"You really are a wizard, huh?"
Ingong shrugged. "What prince can't use a little magic?"
In ten minutes, the armory was bare.
He equipped a dwarven dagger at his waist—light enough for his strength—and donned a mail shirt over his clothes. The helmet was too heavy, so he skipped it.
"Keep going, Prince?" Karak asked, axe gleaming in hand, torn between excitement and worry.
The tunnel was vast—four meters wide, five tall—but packed with thirty-one hulking orcs, it felt suffocating. The air itself grew thin.
Ingong glanced down the passage. "Recon mission. We press on."
Maybe there'd be another vault.
With minimap on, he led them forward.
An hour passed. They found a few empty rooms, but no more treasures. The tunnel stretched on endlessly.
Ingong scratched his chin at the map.
"This thing's too long. Could it actually go through the whole mountain?"
That mattered—because the exit's location could mean everything. Stumble out too close to the Red Thunder tribe, and…
"…though, that could make for a perfect ambush."
Not that he planned to charge the enemy with just Karak and thirty orcs. He only wanted to check the exit's position before turning back.
"Still… I need to learn magic."
If skills like Swordsmanship and Map Reading came so easily, magic couldn't be much harder. The problem was finding a teacher.
"Chris and Caitlin must know magic. Their camp surely has mages. If I asked Caitlin…"
Zephyr would've mocked the idea with his sword. But Chris and Caitlin? Those two softies might actually teach him earnestly.
"And if I'm learning anyway… better Caitlin than Chris."
His mind wandered, picturing her pale, pretty face, when suddenly he stiffened. Ahead, beyond the torchlight, his minimap showed a stone gate.
"Exit."
At his word, Karak froze and raised his hand. The orcs halted instantly.
Like the entrance, the exit was probably sealed. Break it open, or turn back?
Karak waited for his decision.
But then—
A dull crash boomed. Light seeped through cracks. Voices followed.
"Hurry! That mad witch will catch us!"
"Calm down, Kaichin! This passage is secret. She won't follow here!"
Orc voices.
Ingong and Karak exchanged looks.
Another crash—and the stone gate collapsed, sunlight flooding in.
Ingong furrowed his brow as countless thoughts flashed through his mind all at once.
The orcs at the exit.
Kaichin—one of the Red Thunder tribe's commanders.
Beyond the mountains.
A mad witch pursuing them.
"Caitlin!"
The tunnel did indeed connect to the rear of the Red Thunder tribe's camp. And today, Chris and Caitlin had led the assault on that very camp.
Which meant—the orcs before him, including Kaichin, were no victors. They were fugitives. Routed soldiers fleeing the battlefield!
Both sides froze in shock. Then Karak bellowed a warcry and hefted his axe. The enemy orcs, startled, scrambled to raise their weapons as well.
Ingong's gaze darted to his minimap to count the enemies.
"Prince, fall back!" Karak shouted.
Ingong jerked his head up—just as something slammed into his chest.
"Guhk!"
"Prince!"
It came from one of the orcs at the exit, who had thrust a staff adorned with beast bones in his direction. Ingong went sprawling like he'd been struck by a giant's fist, while Karak swore viciously and charged the enemy. His orcs rushed in after him.
"Khak! Khh!"
Ingong writhed on the ground, pain wracking his body. If not for the mail shirt he wore, that strike might have killed him outright.
"Magic? No—psychic powers?!"
There had been no chant, no spell. The force felt like telekinesis.
But this was no time to ponder. Screams and warcries mingled all around.
"I have to get up. Stand first, think later!"
Gritting his teeth, Ingong staggered upright, trying to focus on his minimap—
And froze when a clear female voice rang in his mind.
[Telekinesis Lv1 acquired.]
"Huh?"
Telekinesis.
Ingong stared down at his chest in disbelief.
Telekinesis? The telekinesis? Did I really learn it?
Knight Saga featured many different powers.
Aura—the life force cultivated by swordsmen and martial artists.
Mana—the natural force wielded by mages.
Psychic power—instinctual mental force, unlike the structured logic of magic.
Divine power—granted by gods to their followers.
Each demanded talent, but of them all, psychic power was the rarest.
"So I awakened telekinesis by getting hit with it? Then if I'm struck by aura, I awaken aura? If hit by divine power, I awaken divine power?"
If so, it was utterly broken. Not even Zephyr or Rok the Hero had mastered all four powers.
On impulse, he opened his skill window. His hand twitched toward assigning points, but he stopped himself.
"No, no. Even if I dump everything into telekinesis now, would it really help? I need to survive first!"
This was still a battlefield. He had to live before worrying about training.
He shook his head and raised his eyes.
The exit opened into a wide chamber, but dozens of orcs filled it, making it feel cramped.
"Graaaah!"
"Kraaaagh!"
Karak and Kaichin were already clashing, their roars shaking the cavern. Around them, orcs hacked and slashed, the chamber filling with steel, blood, and screams.
Ingong's gaze found the enemy shaman—the one with the wolf-skull staff. He was flailing wildly amid the melee.
"At least we're not outnumbered."
A quick count on the minimap showed both sides had similar numbers.
But battles weren't decided by numbers alone. Ingong swallowed hard, heart pounding, and looked to Karak. His commander fought Kaichin evenly, blow for blow.
"Yes! That's my Karak! Giving you that axe paid off!"
"Graahk!"
"Khagh!"
Orcs on both sides screamed as they cut each other down. Flesh split, blood fountained—it was chaos incarnate.
Panting, Ingong edged backward. Thanks to being blasted away earlier, he was at the very rear of the battle.
"What do I do? To gain EXP, don't I need to at least land finishing blows?"
But throwing himself into melee was suicide. He might be 1.3 times stronger than Villager A now, but these orcs looked several times stronger than that. And in a chaotic melee, a stray blade could kill him instantly.
Yet standing idle felt wrong. Just swinging his wooden sword had earned him EXP—actually fighting could skyrocket his growth.
"But chasing last-hits here? That's just asking to die."
He needed another way. Something else.
"Raise Telekinesis?"
He had enough points to reach Level 3. But even then, it might not amount to much. Worse, psychic skills often demanded more points at higher levels. He could end up stuck at Level 2.
"Better off throwing rocks than wasting points right now."
So—basic swordsmanship. If he raised it to Level 4, he could at least defend himself.
He opened the skill window. But his hand froze.
There it was.
[Conquest Lv—]
A dormant skill.
The mysterious title in his "Special Note": Knight of Conquest.
Knight Saga had never featured such a class. What was it?
"Conquest…"
His chest thudded. Not from excitement, but from a rising force deep within.
"Subjugate… command… dominate."
The words welled up unbidden. His vision went black.
In that darkness, a woman appeared—her hair long and white, her eyes red and blue. A golden crown gleamed upon her head. She looked straight at him.
"Something's happening! Cut him down!"
The shaman shrieked, pointing his staff at Ingong. Orcs on both sides turned toward him, eyes wide. Blinding white motes of light swirled around him.
"Stop him!"
"Kill him!"
"Protect the Prince!"
The last roar came from Karak. Kaichin's eyes bulged at the word.
"Prince?!"
He hadn't heard it before. Now his face twisted in panic. He battered Karak back with his hammer and hurled himself at Ingong.
"Kill him! He must die!"
A son of the Demon King.
A prince of the demon race.
Shutra might be weak, but Chris and Caitlin were terrifyingly strong. To Kaichin, Shutra could only be another monster in disguise.
Karak wheeled around to intercept, their orcs colliding in a frenzy.
But Ingong didn't notice. He stood transfixed, staring at the crowned woman in the void. She spoke—but her words were drowned in shadow. Darkness swallowed her and vanished.
"Prince!"
"Hah?!"
Ingong gasped and dove aside. Kaichin's hammer smashed into the spot he'd stood.
"Uwooooooh!"
Karak crashed into Kaichin again, their duel raging anew.
Ingong ripped free his dwarven dagger, gritting his teeth. Instead of charging blindly, he followed his instincts and reopened the skill window.
[Sub-Class: Knight of Conquest Lv1]
A new class had appeared. And with it, new power.
"The power of conquest… the power of kingship!"
He understood instinctively. He triggered the skill.
"Under the banner of the King!"
He drove his dagger into the ground. The white motes exploded outward, then connected him to Karak with a shining thread.
For now, only one.
But enough. Ingong exerted his will as king. Karak, as his vassal, received it.
"GROOOOAR!"
With a roar, Karak's axe swung faster, harder.
"Khuh?!"
Kaichin staggered under the onslaught, shocked. Karak's next strike cleaved his head apart. Brain and blood sprayed as one.
[Level Up.][Level Up.]
The glory of a general belonged to his king.
Two levels in an instant. Ingong's eyes locked on Karak's broad back, still tethered by light.
"Go, Karak!"
He ordered, and Karak ripped his axe free of Kaichin's skull. With a battlecry that shook the cavern, he plunged into the enemy.
"Fight! Fight or die!" the shaman howled desperately. But already orcs were faltering. Some fled for the exit, and panic spread like wildfire.
Karak hacked through them, unstoppable. None could withstand him.
"Run!"
The last shred of morale broke. Red Thunder orcs scattered toward the exit.
Karak ignored them, charging instead at the shaman. Their weapons clashed—axe against staff. The impact rang like thunder. But the axe didn't rebound. It sheared through, cleaving staff and chest alike.
"Khak!"
The shaman reeled, eyes blazing with hatred. With a final surge of telekinesis, he hurled Karak back.
His last struggle. He reached for the dagger at his waist—
Only for another blade to pierce his side.
"Guhhk!"
He froze, eyes wide. And met Ingong's. The dwarven dagger twisted cruelly.
"At least I'll land the last hit."
Though he didn't say it aloud, it was enough. The shaman collapsed lifelessly.
"Haa… haa…"
The glowing link to Karak faded. Ingong felt as if all his strength had drained away.
"Prince," Karak called. His bloodied grin was feral, but proud. Raising his axe high, he bellowed:
"We've won! Kaichin is slain! Victory belongs to the Prince!"
"Woooooh!"
"Oooooh!"
The orcs roared in triumph.
Ingong simply collapsed where he stood, gasping for breath. He had bragged about landing last hits, but now that it was over, his head spun.
And then—sweeter than any cheer—came the voice in his mind.
[Level Up.]
Level 8.
Ingong let out a shaky laugh.